Summer of ’06
Last night I sat on a grassy bank of the Tamagawa River, surrounded by good friends and beer and food, watching brilliant fireworks light up the night sky. The breeze was cool, and our little spot was spacious, and we all gasped and cheered appropriately with each ingeniuous creation.
The week before I was in Tokushima, deep in the drunken revelry of that festival of fools’ festivals, Awaodori. The night as a loud, clashing dream, jostling with all sorts of people, dancing in front of the spectators, watching in awe as men pounded huge taiko drums while their fellow troupe members flung about in perfect syncronization.
And during the day, trips and chats and food and laundry – because, you know, the happi get really nasty with sweat and dirt and five different types of spilt alcohol.
Returning back to Tokyo, stopping in Osaka, riding the supremely crowded bullet train crammed in the deck between cars, visiting the Ramen Museum in Shin Yokohama…
It was a good summer. Even the deep blue funk, of self-pity and irrational jealousy, on that last day, as I sat on the grass in the park while the members of our troupe straggled in, and the alchohol high had worn off… even that I managed to shake off the next day.
It’s nearly over, this summer. Last night, sitting on the grass, feeling the wind, giddy on a crush… feels like I’m 20 again and summer is calling.
